A Night in Iowa
by Vplasgirl
Summary: Santos didn't do well in the debate and Josh is feeling the heat...or is it the cold as he nurses a bottle of wine while he waits for Donna to return from her celebration on this chilly Iowa night.


**A Night in Iowa**

"Donnatella Moss. Belle of the ball; woman of the evening."

The sardonic and familiar voice stopped Donna as she was about to step through the entrance of the Holiday Inn. Will paused behind her, still holding the door as Donna looked at Josh through the glass. He was slouched in one of the benches on the other side of the circular drive, his legs stretched out before him, his right fist gripping the neck of a wine bottle, holding it upright on his thigh. He wasn't wearing a coat, Donna noticed, which was insane on this freezing-cold night, and she quickly surmised that he was drunk.

Feeling a sympathetic shiver, Donna instinctively huddled deeper into her new, fashionable camel-colored tweed as she glanced back at Will. "I'll see you in the morning," she told him, stepping out of his way.

"Donna—"

"He's a friend, Will," came her quick reply. "Trust me."

After a charged pause and a sharp glance back at Josh, Will nodded, said, "Goodnight," and went into the hotel.

"Are you drunk?" Donna asked Josh as she approached him.

"Not yet."

"Then why are you out here without a coat? You'll freeze to death—"

"Sounds like a pretty good deal to me at the moment."

"—if you don't get yourself arrested first. You know it's illegal in this state to drink alcohol in a public, unlicensed area."

"Actually I was fantasizing about Savannah, so not only am I toasty warm, I'm also a law-abiding citizen."

The shiver that visibly racked his body as he said it made her smile. "Give me that," she said, snatching the bottle from his hand.

"Hey!" he exclaimed when she started emptying the contents on the frozen ground. "When did you stop being a good time?"

"I was never a good time, Josh."

"True. What was I thinking?"

"I only play by the rules—"

"That's the biggest load of crap I ever heard," he snapped.

Her head jerked up. "When have I not played by the rules?" she demanded, her own temper rising. She pitched the empty bottle in a trash can nearby.

"Playing by the rules, Donna is—" He jumped to his feet and faced her angrily. "One. Cliff. Two. Leaving without talking to me first…without—"

"Stop! We're not doing this tonight. You're freezing and you're upset, which is understandable after coming in dead last in the debate, but don't you dare take it out on the competition because you can't control your guy." After Santo's blunder in the debate tonight, Donna knew he couldn't argue with her point. Her voice softened when she said, "I tried to talk to you, but you kept blowing me off."

"That's no excuse for leaving me—"

"I didn't leave you, Josh. I left my job."

"Semantics. You still left."

"So we are doing this tonight," she muttered as she watched him pace like a caged animal, his shoulders hunched stiffly.

"And might I add," he said, turning around abruptly to glare at her, his index finger punching the air between them, startling her. She took a step back. "You picked a rotten time to leave. I had serious decisions to make. I needed you."

"I've got news for you Josh…I don't work on your schedule anymore. If you'd invested a minute of your valuable time thinking about someone other than yourself you'd have realized that while I will be eternally grateful for all you've done for me, I haven't needed _you_ for a long time."

She heard his sharp intake of breath; saw the grey cloud of condensation on the cold night air as he let it out.

Something in her softened.

"Stop fooling yourself, Donnatella," he returned, nonplussed. "You do need me."

"Oh? How do you figure? I'm doing quite well without—"

"You're backing the wrong guy," he informed her smugly. "I would have told you that if you'd bothered discussing your plans with me."

_Oh! The nerve…_ "I'm sure you would have said plenty if _you'd_ bothered to give me an audience, your majesty, lord of—" She stopped herself, holding on to her temper with difficulty. "I'm not discussing my candidate with you, Josh."

"What's to discuss? He's the wrong guy."

"He's no Bartlett but—"

"Santos is."

She couldn't argue that point. It was the truth, and she knew it, but she wasn't about to admit it to him. "Let's go inside, Josh. You'll catch your death out here."

"It is fucking freezing," he admitted huskily, crossing his arms tightly around himself. When he made no move to leave, Donna went up to him, removed her fleece scarf and wrapped it around his neck, putting as much care into the gesture as she had done countless times before with his bowties.

She felt him shudder.

"I met a bright young woman on the floor tonight," she told him softly. "She's nuts about Santos and I'm sure if you offered her a job she'd jump at it." She smoothed her hand down the soft fabric of her scarf over his chest, and looked up at him. Meeting his intense gaze, her heart tumbled in her chest.

She should be moving away, she told herself, but something in his expression was paralyzing. She blinked, finding it difficult to hold his eyes, though they weren't angry now as they had been a few days ago when they first met on the campaign trail. Josh had rarely voiced his grievances with her, but she always knew when he was pissed by his body language. A slamming of his door. A sharp look. A tightening of his jaw. That first night they met in Iowa, there was something accusatory in his tone, something he hadn't put into words until tonight.

But now, his expression was gentle, sad almost, as if he was finally accepting that Donna Moss, his assistant, was something of the past.

"What's her name?" he asked softly.

"Who?"

"The girl…" His breath was warm on her face. "What's her name?"

"Carmen Sanchez."

"Is she pretty?"

"Josh—"

"Will I hop out of bed in the morning not caring that I only got two hours of sleep because I can't wait to see her face? Will she challenge me, Donna? Will she make me want to be a better man?"

"Josh—"

"Does she have the kind of smile that can make me forget the world is falling apart around us?" He unwrapped his arms from around himself and lifted a hand to her hair, touched her gently. "Will she make me forget you're sleeping across the hall, a few feet away from me?" His gaze was intense, questioning, confusing her…elating her as she began to understand what he was saying. "Will she make me stop going half out of my mind wondering who's kissing you goodnight?"

Her mouth fell open and she could only stare at him as he cupped her face in his surprisingly warm hands. Tiny shivers kissed her skin, mingled with the heat his words and his gaze generated. She was sweating and trembling at the same time, and her pulse was pounding chaotically in her ears, drowning out everything around them. She tried to speak, but no sound came out.

But it didn't matter. Donna realized how overrated words could be when he slowly drew her face to his and kissed her, his lips sinking into hers and moving with a gentle passion that made every fantasy of this moment with him pale in comparison.

When he pulled away, she moaned in protest. "Josh…" She could feel his heart pounding under her hand, in rhythm with her own. "Josh," she said again, and he wrapped his arms around her, hugged her.

"I miss you, Donna," he whispered, his breath against her ear, and tears of happiness rushed to her eyes.

"Wow."

He drew back and looked at her, the heat in his eyes warming her inside out. "I should have told you a long time ago..."

Donna smiled. "I only left a couple of weeks ago, Josh."

"No, I mean...I have loved you since that first day we met. Remember? I was...tickled. Enchanted. And I couldn't be, and..." He looked at her quizzically. "Donna? It would okay with me if you got all emotional just about now."

She smiled. "I love you too, Josh."

He gave her a quick, hard kiss. "Let's go in. I don't want to die anymore."

Keeping his arm around her, he led her across the drive to the hotel. "You love me?" he asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Yeah…I do."

He opened the door for her. "But you're still backing the wrong guy."

Donna shot him a cocky smile then thrust her chin up. "I know," she said, missing his dimpled grin as they entered the hotel.

The End


End file.
